UNSC Marines were known for being tough, the toughest of the tough, the ones who were still standing when all others were cowering in fear. And next to a Covenant invasion fleet only one other thing could make them flinch.

A Spartan's driving.

Feet braced against the dash Sergeant Denver clutched his seat and the roll cage as he prayed to whatever deity that might be listening, as the Master Chief wove their Warthog through enemy fire. In back Private Green clung to the M41 LAAG, his whimpers barely heard under the whine of the machine-gun as it blazed away.

Ahead a pair of Wraiths sent balls of burning death sizzling through the air. All around them the searing plasma exploded as the Chief jerked the wheel left and right, sending the Warthog skidding, sliding, bouncing, and fishtailing across the battle-scarred field as they charged a Covenant fort.

We're going to die! Sergeant Denver thought, squeezing his eyes shut as a mortar round exploded close enough for him to feel the heat.

Hitting a dip in the ground the Warthog went airborne, and Private Green's whimpers became full, throat-ripping, screams. Slamming back to the ground the Warthog swerved wildly as the Chief fought the wheel, narrowly avoiding flipping over and incoming fire. From the walls of the fort those within opened up with small arms fire at the charging vehicle, the superheated plasma gouging into the armor plating and the ground around them.

Then the burst from a plasma mortar erupted in front of them, throwing dirt and cobalt flames into the air.

Reacting with reflexes only a Spartan possessed, the Master Chief hauled the wheel hard to the left. The Warthog swerved sharply and started to fishtail wildly, forcing the Chief to crank the wheel back the other way, only to overcorrect.

The Warthog turned, skidded, and slid sideways. The wheels dug into a dip in the ground and they went into a roll. Bouncing and flipping over the turf the Warthog didn't seem to slow an ounce, even when the explosion from another plasma mortar send it flying to the air.

Tumbling through the air, the out-of-control vehicle cleared the fort's wall and slammed back to the ground with bone-jarring force. Rolling a few more times the Warthog finally hit the base of a lookout tower and came to a rest upside down.

Groaning, Sergeant Denver crawled out of the overturned vehicle, thankful that he was still alive to groan. That is until he stood and thought that, maybe it wouldn't have been so bad to have died in the crash.

Elites, Jackals, and Grunts faced him, weapons raised but looks of surprise on their alien faces at the Warthog's sudden flight and landing. Probably the only thing keeping their flesh un-cooked.

"We're alive!" Private Green shouted, bouncing to his feet, fists held high overhead in their triumph over death. At least until he saw the surrounding Covenant. "Oh, crap, we're alive."

Yeah, that pretty much summed it up, Sergeant Denver thought as the Covenant pushed aside their shock and readied their weapons.

Only to pause once more as the Warthog rocked, creaked, shuddered, groaned, and finally shifted as the Chief pulled himself free and stood.

"Aahh! Demon!" a Grunt cried, earning a smack to the back of the head from one next to him.

Despite the impressive array of weaponry aimed at them the towering Spartan didn't seem fazed in the slightest. The marines knew he had faced worst odds. So, calmly staring down what they thought was almost certain death the Master Chief reached up over his shoulder to grasp ... empty air.

Turning his helmeted head enough to look at where his MA5B had been, but apparently fallen off during the tumble.

"Hmm," was the only response the super soldier gave as he looked around.

Twisting this way and that the Chief seemed to be coming up empty until he paused and stared at the Warthog's nearest wheel. Tilting his head slightly he continued to stare a moment then reached out and ripped off the hubcap. Keeping his arm straight, he whipped around and hurled the hubcar like a discus.

Buzzing through the air the hubcap bounced off a Grunt's face; ricocheted off the back of a Jackel's head; skipped off an Elite's skull; and tore into a stack of plasma batteries. For a moment there was a sharp in-drawing of breath, a few half formed curses and barely vocalized screams before the entire base was blown to kingdom come.

Going off in a single giant blue and purple fireball, the superheated plasma chewed into the surrounding aliens and slagged the perimeter wall. Grunts ran screaming, arms waving in the air and often slamming into each other. Jackels uselessly sought cover as the expanding plasma set off more batteries and stored explosives. Elites tried to regain control only to be caught in more explosion or trampled by their fleeing subordinates.

And through all this Denver and Green watched the growing chaos with their mouths hanging open. In just a matter of minutes the Covenant were dead or fleeing and the base was a half melted wreck.

"We're alive!" Private Green shouted, hands thrown into the air.

With a tortured groan one of the damaged walls tilted, hanging suspended for a moment then fell with a ringing thud as a Wraith shouldered it aside and glided into the demolished fort; it's automated cannons swiveling in their direction.

"Oh, come on!" the frustrated private shouted, as he and his sergeant dove for cover behind the Warthog.

Leaving the Master Chief calmly staring down the tank. And therefore the only one to witness one last plasma battery dropping out of the sky were it had been hurled and crashing down onto the Wraith cockpit. Detonating with a resounding booooom the Wraith went off like a roman candle, sending chunks of purple-armored hull flying off in all directions as the smoldering behemoth crashed to the dirt.

Mouths agape, the two marines stared at the flaming wreckage, wondering how one man could be so freaking lucky. And nearly jumped out of their skins as something plummeted out of the sky and smacked into the ground right in front of them.

When it didn't reduce them to a red paste they cautiously peered around the Warthog to find it's smoking, and slightly scorched, hubcap lying on the ground. When a shadow fell across it they looked up at the Chief as he scooped up the piece of steel, turning it over in his hands for a moment then hammered it back onto the wheel.

"Let's move," the Spartan said, gripping the edge of the Warthog and flipped it onto it's wheels.

Exchanging a desperate look the marines fought not to whimper but saw no way out and shared a single thought.

We're going to die.

First off would like to say sorry this took so long to get out. I blame writers block and video games, though mostly the video games.

Second, wow! I didn't think this would received so. To all those who have left reviews and read this, thanks.

For the items used in this chapter I gave credit to TehMaskedWarrior for the Plasma Batteries and WordNerb93 for the Hubcap. Don't know if this is what you had in mind but I did the best I could.

Hope everyone enjoyed and please review and if you have any ideas please share.

Until next time, have a nice day.

The author would like to thank you for your continued support. Your review has been posted.